


the traveling kind

by mellerbee



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Love Confessions, M/M, the inherent tenderness of diners at 5am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22116808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellerbee/pseuds/mellerbee
Summary: “Do you really want to leave?” Anders finally asks him.“No,” Matt admits, more to himself than to Anders. “It’s just a nice thought.”
Relationships: Anders Bjork/Matt Grzelcyk
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	the traveling kind

**Author's Note:**

> this is a very short vignette from my mob au, but i loved it too much to keep it from this site.

Above this back road in Illinois the stars blink like thousands of fireflies, the dinner plate moon casting a film of silver over the expanses of fields.

They’re on the run, but only technically. No one close to the hit knows a single thing, and it isn’t really something St. Louis would start a war over. Hopefully not, because Matt’s certainly betting their lives on it.

Usually, he doesn’t do cross-country. He’s a Boston kid, born and raised, and he likes to stay close. Besides, it’s where he can do his best work. No one knows the streets like a Grzelcyk. 

Those are Charlestown streets, however. 

Not the backwoods of thee midwest, or wherever they are. His phone was smashed when he fell out of the truck (long story) and there haven’t been any gas stations to get their hands on a map, so with Anders driving, he’s practically rendered useless. The goal was to make it over the Wisconsin border by sunrise, but at this rate Matt is pretty sure he couldn’t tell the difference between Quebec and California. He just doesn’t want to get stuck in Illinois. 

He didn’t even notice he was dozing off until Anders shakes his shoulder, shoving a jacket at him. “Welcome to Wisconsin, Matty,” he grins at him, and Matt smiles back on instinct, before scowling the second his back cracks. “Rise and fuckin’ shine.”

His watch says 5:17 when he looks, halfway between tugging on the jacket and scrambling out of the truck to keep up with Anders. It’s still pitch black out. “Are we in Milwaukee yet?” He asks, catching up to him just before the curb.

“Nope!” Anders tells him, way too cheery for five in the morning. “Janesville. Only an hour and a half left, but I was gettin’ hungry, so - ” He gestures at the building they’re standing in front of, a tiny diner with a dilapidated sign reading  _ 24 hour breakfast _ . Matt doesn’t think anything has ever sounded better. 

Inside, they’re not the only ones there, but they’re definitely the only ones under 50. Anders ignores the stares, following the hostess (who also looks to be the only waitress) with more of a spring in his step than Matt has when wide awake. 

The booth she seats them in is cracked leather, bright red, a bottle of ketchup and packets of sugar among that in the center of the table, the menus five pages long. Anders orders a coke. Matt orders black coffee and tries not to think about the sheer amount of bones in his body that cracked when he sat down. 

While Anders buries himself in his menu, Matt takes the opportunity to look around, something hammered into him since he was a kid. There’s nothing, of course - nothing at all. No one seemingly threatening or vaguely familiar, just local retirees and truckers passing through. He can’t let his guard down, but he can breathe easier for a moment or two. 

An old country song is playing over the crackling speakers. Anders is humming along when Matt looks back up, a hint of a smile playing on the edges of his lips. 

Matt kicks him under the table, instinctively. They scuffle for a minute or two, trying not to draw too many stares while staying determined to win. The waitress comes back with their drinks just as Anders has his leg trapped between his feet, closed like pincers around his ankle and poised to pull him off the seat. It’s a good thing, too, there’s a fork within his reach and Matt’s never been afraid to play dirty. 

She takes their orders with a practiced straight face, impressive considering the sugary pancake monstrosity Anders orders, complete with a double side of bacon. Matt orders a reasonable omelette with a side of homefries. 

Anders makes a face at him. “You’re  _ so _ boring.”

“Unlike some of us, I’d prefer not to die from heart failure at age forty.” He’s smiling, despite himself. There’s no question he’s going to end up stealing a bite of Anders’ food, anyways, out of sheer curiosity if anything.

“Just liver failure?”

This time, the kick Matt gives him is actually aimed. “Asshole.” 

Anders yelps, grabbing at his shin. A couple people look their way. “You’re way too cranky. We had a good time this weekend.”

“Getting a knife in the arm and falling out of the back of a pickup is  _ not _ a good time!” Matt splutters, coffee mug sloshing as he places it back on the table. It wasn’t a very deep cut, and he didn’t break anything, but that doesn’t add much to his argument. Anders patching him up in a motel room made it almost worth it. Even if he’ll never tell him that.

Cackling, Anders takes a sip of his coke. “It seemed like a pretty good time to me.”

Matt doesn’t gift him with an answer, which is a good idea, because their waitress comes by just then with their food and a coffee refill for Matt. The pancakes look as bad as they sounded.

“Holy shit,” Anders exclaims, popping a single m&m into his mouth. “I wish Jake could see this, oh man.”

“Holy shit is right.” Matt has to agree with him, because regardless of the painful levels of sugar it must contain, the mountain of whipped cream and chocolate is truly impressive. “You’re going to throw up from that.” 

“Absolutely worth it.”

Taking a bite of his omelette, Matt feels healthier than he has in months, quite frankly. Between that and the coffee, black like his dad always drank, it nearly feels like home for a moment. He pushes that thought back, though, because he’s  _ here _ . When he looks back up, Wisconsin with Anders is an alright place to be.

They lapse back into silence for a bit, not having eaten in hours and not a full meal in over a day, at this point. Anders meets his eyes for a second and puts his fork down. “Is everything alright?”

“Do you ever wonder if things could be different?” Matt blurts, shocking himself with his own admittance. 

“How so?” Anders sits back. He doesn’t laugh, thank god, he knows when to be serious. Matt doesn’t think he could handle it at all if he laughed.

“If we - weren’t working. If we were normal, you know?” He can’t make himself look Anders in the eyes. “If we finished college, and got normal jobs. If - if we never met Cam, or Patrice.”

“I think about it a lot,” Anders says, slowly, carefully. 

Matt taps his fingers against the table, his pulse pounding in his ears. “What if we ran away?” Anders looks taken aback, so he keeps going, nearly thinking too fast for his mouth to catch up. “We can start over, here in Wisconsin. You know the area, I know how Patrice thinks. I bet we could live a year before anyone finds us.”

There’s a heavy pause, and the beating of Matt’s heart joins the pounding of his pulse in a symphony of anxiety. His hands are shaking too much to eat, or do something else idle, to distract himself. 

“Do you really want to leave?” Anders finally asks him.

“No,” Matt admits, more to himself than to Anders. “It’s just a nice thought.”

“It could be.” Anders pushes his plate to the side, reaching across the table, taking one of Matt’s hands in his. 

Matt’s heart catches in his throat. 

Callouses from years of holding guns and knives press against the similar patches on Matt’s hand, the silver and gold rings he wears a smooth contrast. Anders traces his thumb over the thin white scar on the side of Matt’s hand, an old mark he was there for. 

(It should be a good story, but it isn’t. Still, the memories of the knife game in the basement of Sean’s parents house are good ones, even if most of high school tends not to be.)

“I like this world just fine.” Anders tells him, just a little sadness tinging his tone. “I don’t want to lose you, Matty.”

“Yeah?” Matt asks, breathless. The world slides away for a moment.

“Yeah.” 

Over the diner’s speakers, Merle sings  _ today I started loving you again _ .

-

Back in the truck, he stays awake this time, but only marginally. It all seems a little dreamy still, an effect of the early hour, he supposes. The rising sun glints off the chrome, just the right angle to make Anders’ hair glow golden. Matt wonders when he got like this, longing over the sight of his partner from the passenger seat. They haven’t even been driving that long.

Though, Anders is just the sort to make someone feel that way. There’s always been something about him, a certain intrigue, an effortless charm - something most would see as an asset, or a weapon. Yet, he’s never given Matt reason to see it as a threat. In their years working together, or near each other, he’s never directed it at anyone, never turned it on or off. He’s not David, he doesn’t get his way with a smile and a well-placed word, he gets his way unnoticed, with his speed and cleverness. Maybe Matt’s the only one entranced.

Anders notices him looking, because he always does. “What?”

“If I got to love you,” Matt says, so quietly it’s barely a whisper. “What world would that be?”

“Matt,” Anders keeps his eyes on the road, voice calm and steady. “You have that already.”

The truck keeps rolling on, and Matt’s dreams of running away fade into the distance. He smiles, despite himself.

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr at mellerbees  
mob board on [pinterest](https://pin.it/bzcalzholfe6wg/)
> 
> if you have questions about this verse or want to hear about anything else, shoot me an ask on there and i'm more than happy to talk about it
> 
> song referenced is [today i started loving you again](https://youtu.be/7PY2yW9Biyo/) by the incomparable merle haggard, which perfectly fits the energy of this fic.


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